Born Wild

by Nikki Jefford

  Relief flowed through him like a quenching drink of water. He lunged for the next man and punched him in the face—once, twice, three times, four—pounding on him the way they’d come at him. Once the man doubled over, Wolfrik went for one of the last men who’d been leading him. He ripped the gun from his hand and tossed it aside then pounded him in the head.

  A woman screamed, and Wolfrik’s heart dropped to his feet. But it was Sparrow, not Kallie. Her brother’s men had gotten the gun away from her and were dragging her to Hawk. Hawk punched her in the face with such force, she flew back and would have fallen if his men hadn’t been ready to catch her and haul her back up for more.

  “I should have done this myself the first time,” Hawk seethed. He yanked Sparrow toward him by her hair and punched her again.

  She cried out and stumbled to her knees.

  A spectacular bellow shook the leaves on the trees right before Aden reappeared, dashing in from the forest. As soon as he reached the nearest man, he jumped onto two legs and ripped the guy’s screaming head right off.

  “Oh my god!” came the terrified holler of the other man. He fired at Aden and missed, then screamed when Aden ripped his arm off and tossed it aside like a wayward branch.

  The screams were deafening—until Aden made them stop.

  Rover snarled and attacked, leaping into the air and landing on Aden’s chest. The black wolf clawed at Aden, leaving bloody trails where his nails had dug through fur and flesh.

  Aden bellowed, and the two beasts landed on the ground in a flurry and flash of brown and black fur, turning round and round like boulders in an avalanche.

  Wolfrik’s opponent took a swing at him, reminding him that he had his own fight to finish. He leered into the bruised and bloodied face in front of him. “Go ahead, try and fight me. No one ever beats Cujo.” Wolfrik grinned wolfishly.

  Fear flashed through the man’s eyes. Wolfrik wrapped his arm around the man’s neck and slid around him, squeezing the human into a chokehold. The man thrashed against him, but it was no more than a ripple in a pond.

  In front of them, werewolf and black wolf made the loudest sounds as they growled and snapped at one another. Blood glistened on their fangs.

  Sparrow crouched on the ground, trying to protect her head as her brother rained blows on her, cursing like a crazed man. His entire face had turned red, and his eyes looked bloodshot and wild. He hauled his sister to her feet by her hair. Her lip was split, and both eyes were swollen shut. Out of everyone, she looked the worst, but at least her head was still attached, and she had both arms.

  The man wheezed above Wolfrik’s arm. He pulled back harder, crushing his windpipe and holding on until the man went limp and breathless in his arms. Wolfrik pushed him forward and took large, purposeful steps toward Hawk.

  The barbarian’s wrath at his sister was an anthill compared to the towering mountain of rage Wolfrik felt for this monster after everything he’d put him through . . . then showing up in his home and threatening his female and unborn child. Aden had the right idea. Wolfrik wanted to rip Hawk apart limb by limb.

  Hawk took note of him as he approached, his eye twitching. His fingers squeezed into Sparrow’s arms, and his upper lip curled as he flung her headfirst at the cave’s slanted outer wall. She hit the rocks and crumpled to the ground.

  The sight stirred the fury burning up Wolfrik’s cheeks. No man should ever beat on a woman—not without a death sentence.

  Hawk pulled out a knife as Wolfrik stormed toward him. Once he was closer, Hawk lunged and slashed at him. Wolfrik jerked back and circled Hawk.

  “Good thing you have a knife, or this would be over a lot quicker,” Wolfrik taunted.

  “Give me a second to get my gun, and it will be over really quick,” Hawk returned.

  Wolfrik clucked his tongue and shook his head. “What fun would that be?” He lunged at Hawk, but the brute was twitchier than a fall leaf. He jabbed the knife forward and nearly nicked Wolfrik in the gut. Wolfrik jumped aside and laughed. “No surprise that the fight master doesn’t fight fair.”

  “Fair?” Hawk sneered. “You’re a shifter, and you’ve had years of practice in the pit.”

  Wolfrik’s grin widened as Hawk turned in place, keeping him in sight.

  “You’re right to fear me,” Wolfrik drawled. “I’m bigger and stronger. I could beat you senseless before you ever knew what hit you—the way you beat your sister.” Wolfrik nodded over Hawk’s shoulder at the motionless body. “You happy you killed her?”

  Hawk’s face twitched, but he didn’t turn around—not with Wolfrik in front of him.

  “My sister got what she deserved.”

  “And you’ll get the same.” Wolfrik’s grin stretched all the way up his face. He’d dreamed of this moment—longed for it ever since he’d left the city. Escape wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t be completely satisfied until he’d killed the man who had made him suffer for all those years.

  A piercing yelp from the fighting wolves stung their eardrums, but their eyes remained locked. Wolfrik jumped to one side of Hawk then the other. The bastard jerked one way then the next, making Wolfrik laugh gleefully. He circled around, abruptly changing direction. Hawk’s forehead wrinkled over his brows, deep lines forming around his cheeks while his jaw looked ready to break from the pressure of his clenched teeth.

  Then a gunshot exploded, leaving a burning hole in his back thigh. Wolfrik grunted in pain, reaching back to slap at his leg as though a buzzard-sized mosquito bit him. Warm, sticky blood coated his fingers.

  Wolfrik turned sideways to see one of the men he’d taken down fire at him from the ground where he sat wounded. The second shot hit Wolfrik in the side, which stung like a fire poker rammed into his bare flesh.

  A snarl echoed from the cave, blasting through the opening as a beautiful gray wolf shot out. Kallie jumped on the man before he could fire a third shot. He screamed as she tore into him. Aden joined her. They ripped into the man even after his screams had stopped.

  While they finished off the fallen men, Hawk had made a run for it. Sparrow still lay motionless, facedown on the ground. Wolfrik’s shift staunched the flow of his blood. The smell of it, however, filled his nostrils from the men who lay dead on the ground.

  Wolfrik took off after Hawk, inhaling his musky, sweaty scent.

  Hawk didn’t get far. He’d just made it across the river when Zackary and Dylan headed him off with their snarls. Hawk waved his knife at them.

  “Back off or I’ll cut you open.” He stepped forward slowly, as though he understood that his only chance of survival was to keep moving.

  The next time Hawk lifted his foot, Zackary dove at him and grabbed his pant leg.

  With a roar, Hawk slashed at Zackary’s face. The big wolf released Hawk with a snarl and jumped back. Wolfrik growled at Zackary to back off. This was his prize. His kill. His vengeance.

  Heeding his command, Zackary and Dylan prowled several steps behind Wolfrik, their eyes intent on the fleeing human.

  Hawk had to move sideways to keep an eye on the three wolves pursuing him with every panicked step. His shoulder bumped into a tree, causing him to hiss and scowl at Wolfrik. “Why don’t you face me like a man?” he demanded.

  If Wolfrik could have spoken, he would have said, “Because you treated me like a dog. And you named me like a dog. Now you will die at the fangs of a wolf.”

  The next time Hawk stumbled, Wolfrik lunged at him. Hawk jabbed the knife at Wolfrik’s face. He only avoided the blade’s tip by a hair’s breadth. Wolfrik snarled. Because of Hawk, his human body was forever scarred. He wouldn’t allow the human scum to mar his wolf, too.

  He remembered Kallie bravely rushing from the cave on four legs to attack the man shooting at Wolfrik and how Aden had joined her to finish off the wounded humans.

  Teamwork. That was what made a pack strong.

/>   His growls changed tone. Zackary and Dylan understood at once. They rushed forward, and together they attacked Hawk from different directions. Three wolves. One human. Hawk didn’t stand a chance. He made a feeble attempt to slash at their necks, but Zackary bit through Hawk’s wrist, and he dropped the knife with a scream.

  Wolfrik jumped onto Hawk’s chest while Zackary and Dylan took his arms and legs. Hawk continued screaming as they ripped and tore through his clothes, his skin, his flesh. Blood soaked Wolfrik’s nails. He tore into Hawk’s chest cavity with his teeth, chewing his way through flesh and bones.

  Hawk’s screams rivaled their snarls. On and on it went.

  The human died screaming.

  chapter twenty-four

  The fire raged, black smoke blotting out the blue sky. Wolfrik heard his packmates’ howls as they reached it. Rover had been wrong. The shifters of Wolf Hollow were much faster than the traitorous watchdog thought. They made it to the outskirts of the hollow in half the time he’d guessed.

  Wolfrik didn’t run to join the others at the fire. He raced back to the caves. Bodies littered the campsite—including Sparrow’s—but Kallie and Aden were no longer there.

  Wolfrik sniffed deeply, sifting through the acrid smell of ash to locate his female. He found her and Aden guarding Garrick and Justin. Justin lay on his stomach, wounded and whimpering softly. Garrick was stretched out on his side as though he were sleeping, but his body was stone cold.

  Wolfrik lifted his head and sent up a cry.

  He walked up to Kallie and sniffed her for wounds. She nuzzled him with assurance, but it wasn’t enough. He had to hear her say she was fine—that everything would be okay.

  After Zackary and Dylan joined them, Wolfrik led Kallie back to the campsite. He shifted and winced as the gunshots reopened and oozed blood. Kallie looked so beautiful, crouched over the earth as she finished her shift and lifted her head, her wild hair spilling over her shoulders.

  “You’re hurt,” she said, frowning.

  “I’ll survive.” Wolfrik moved briskly toward her and clasped her shoulders in his hands. “Are you okay? Did Hawk harm you in any way?”

  Tears glistened over Kallie’s eyes. She shook her head. “No,” she said. “He didn’t have a chance to hurt me.”

  Wolfrik sighed with relief. “What were you doing out here?”

  Kallie frowned. Rather than answer him, she took a step back, out of his reach. A look of hurt crossed her face. Wolfrik frowned in confusion. Kallie swallowed and glanced toward the cave.

  “Will you not mourn your human?” she asked softly, not meeting his eyes.

  Wolfrik tilted his head and kept staring at Kallie. “She wasn’t my human.”

  “Then why did you sleep with her?” Kallie’s eyes lifted and sparked as she stared at Wolfrik, her chin trembling.

  Dawning rushed through him. Kallie must have arrived at the caves sometime before or after Wolfrik and heard the impassioned sounds echoing from within. He nearly laughed. As his lips lifted, Kallie’s eyes narrowed.

  “That wasn’t me. That was Aden.”

  “Aden?” Kallie repeated, her jaw dropping.

  Her entire body relaxed. Wolfrik took that opportunity to fold her into his arms.

  “I heard them in the cave earlier—figured I’d let them finish up rather than announce my arrival. So I undressed and shifted than checked in with the patrol teams. We saw the smoke from the mountain.”

  A tear ran down Kallie’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, Wolfrik.”

  “What do you have to be sorry about?” he asked, rubbing away the wet streak on her face with his thumb.

  More tears spilled down Kallie’s face. She blinked rapidly and tried to pull away, but Wolfrik wouldn’t let her go. Not this time. Not ever again.

  “Kallie, what is it?” he asked gently.

  She blinked some more and swallowed shakily. “That horrible man leading the others threatened to gut me and kill our baby if I didn’t tell him where his sister was.” She swallowed again. “I knew where she was. I’d heard her in the cave, so I told him.”

  Wolfrik nodded. “You did the right thing.”

  “No!” Kallie cried. “I thought you were in there, too. I could have gotten you killed.” Her chest shook as she sobbed.

  Wolfrik patted her soft, thick hair and planted a tender kiss on her forehead.

  “If I had been in the cave with Sparrow, I would have deserved to die.”

  Kallie choked back a sob and snarled. “Don’t say that!” Her fingers balled into fists at her sides. “If I weren’t pregnant, I never would have told him. I would have given my own life for yours. I came out here to tell you that I love you and I’m pregnant with your child.” She took a deep breath, her exhale coming out with a whoosh.

  Wolfrik lifted one brow, a smile dancing on his lips. “You love me?”

  Kallie pursed her lips and nodded.

  Wolfrik drew her against his chest. “I love you, too. I want to claim you as my mate.”

  “And the baby?” Kallie asked. “Will you love him, too?”

  “Him?” Wolfrik leaned back to study her face.

  Kallie nodded. “The soothsayer from Glenn Meadows predicted that I would give birth to a strong son. She said he would become a leader to future generations of our pack.”

  A son. A leader. A second chance.

  Wolfrik glanced around the campsite, at all the fallen bodies then into the air at the smoke blowing toward the south and the Manama River, away from the hollow, as though being driven away by a mystic wind. The old crone had foreseen Sparrow’s and Hawk’s arrival. She’d warned him of impending doom. But she’d also offered him a path of salvation.

  “The soothsayer made me a prediction as well,” Wolfrik said.

  “Oh?” Kallie squinted at him.

  Wolfrik moistened his lips. “She said a female would shape my future—redeem me. That female is you.” He slid his hand down her arm to her belly. There, he pressed his palm gently against her soft belly, imaging the life beginning to grow there.

  Birth. Renewal. The cycle of life was a miraculous gift.

  A grin lit up Wolfrik’s face. “Well, the den mates won’t be able to keep me out now.”

  Kallie laughed and smacked him playfully on the shoulder. She sobered an instant later. “We better check in with the others, and you should shift before you lose too much blood.”

  “It was worth every drop,” Wolfrik answered. He’d honed his tolerance for pain over the years. Some things were more important than blood loss.

  After shifting, he and Kallie ran side by side eastward, where they found the majority of their packmates.

  Tabor stood on human legs near the fire with his arms outstretched, chanting. A breeze seemed to waft from his arms, blowing the smoke and flames toward the river. As the fire moved away, Tabor followed it inch by inch until it reached the current and fizzled away.

  Raider howled on and on when he saw his father’s body. Jordan stayed by his side, joining his cries.

  The skies, which had cleared of smoke, were now darkening with night. After removing the bodies from the campsite, they decided that some of them would stay the night and return to the glade during daylight. Justin’s wolf had taken a shot in the chest, narrowly missing his heart. He shifted into human form and would walk back on foot in the morning. His friends Zackary and Wiley shifted into human form to keep him company inside the cave.

  Raider was going to sleep beside his father’s body, guarding Garrick through the night until dawn, when he would make the trek back on foot and carry his father for burial in the Forest of the Ancestors. Jordan stayed with him.

  While they were clearing the bodies from the campsite, they discovered that Sparrow was still alive, though unconscious.

  “That woman won’t die,” Wolfrik said, shaking his h
ead in admiration. Despite being human, Sparrow was a survivor, and she’d chosen to side with Wolf Hollow even though they’d held her captive.

  Aden had picked her up carefully and laid her face up beside the fire. “I’ll stay here and watch over the woman.”

  When Rosalie suggested they finish her off, Aden had growled.

  “Does he love her?” Kallie asked when they were alone together in the shelter of her den.

  Wolfrik shrugged. He wasn’t sure, but Aden’s protectiveness spoke volumes.

  By the time they made it back to the den—and Tabor had gotten Wolfrik patched up—night had turned to early morning, though it was still pitch-black. Wolfrik lay on his back, gun wound cleaned out and smeared with Tabor’s healing salve. It was a shame to waste shirts on bandages, but they staunched the flow of blood. Wolfrik could have waited to take care of his human body, but he didn’t want to delay the healing process. After all these years, he was finally ready to recover and move on. He cared more about his future with Kallie than the werewolf shifter’s feelings for a human.

  “I think it was just sex,” he said, tracing Kallie’s plump bottom lip with his finger.

  She took his finger between her lips and sucked gently.

  Wolfrik stiffened at once and groaned.

  With a satisfied grin, Kallie released his finger and climbed on top of his body, seating herself over his groin.

  “You and I started out as ‘just sex,’” she said huskily.

  A moan pried open Wolfrik’s lips as his beautiful, brave, mate-to-be took him inside her and claimed him body and soul.

  Their claiming ceremony was somewhat of a somber affair, but Kallie didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to her was acknowledging Wolfrik as her life mate in front of the pack before supper in the glade.

  There was no music, dancing, or blazing bonfire. After the hollow had nearly burned to a crisp, the only fire they lit was the one beneath the cauldron heating the evening’s stew.